


Stars and Skipping School

by quiznaking



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Are these even right, Art, Astronomy, Astronomy Club, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, I CHANGE THE TAGS TOO MUCH, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, clubs, it rains a lot, non-binary Pidge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-11-03 11:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10966608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiznaking/pseuds/quiznaking
Summary: In which there are two members of the Astronomy Club.Neither of which are well-versed (or, rather, at-all-versed) in the magical world of astronomy.





	1. onee

**Author's Note:**

> look at this mess!
> 
> shoutout to the voltron fandom for being horrible right now! love u guys
> 
> i have returned, your knight in paladin armor, to fix the mistakes i made in 2017.
> 
> everyone is mad about s7 and its exhausting, so im hiding on ao3
> 
> dont tell them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHOS HERE AFTER REVISING THIS FOR A YEAR
> 
>  
> 
> ITS ME I POSTED A NEW VERSION OF CHAPTER ONE
> 
> LOVE ME APPRECIATE ME

 

For the second official time that morning Lance smashed into the ground. He had thought he’d gotten to his phone, but slowly leaned forward another couple of inches without meaning to. As soon as his index finger had pressed the pause button, his foot flew out from the edge of the tub and he faceplanted onto the tile,  resulting in an instantaneous nosebleed and a quickly formed bruise on his cheek, the colors of the galaxy.  _ Wow, so artsy and precious uwu uwu. _

 

“Oh, sh- come on!” Lance groaned, pitifully sprawled out on the floor, a cold, annoyed mess. He brought a hand up to his face and swiped under his nose to save the blood from dripping onto his mouth. Because blood is  _ ew.  _

 

He painstakingly stood up, the pain  _ finally  _ getting to him. He leaned to the mirror across the counter, taking in his reflection to assess the damage. 

 

He inhaled sharply and prodded the bruised area with two fingers, grimacing on impact. It didn’t look too bad, but it definitely didn’t look hot. Lance didn’t think his nose was broken, but it surely  _ looked _ it. It was almost swollen, red, and oozing blood. It was, to put it mildly, a sight. Certainly not one he was planning on seeing that early in the day, but he’d have to manage.

 

He sighed, running his non-bloodied hand through his wet hair, lazily eyeing the sheet face masks on his small shelf. With a quick glance at the time he reached for one, setting it beside the sink. Lance’s lips tightened into a thin line, and leaned down to rinse off his nose. Which was no easy feat, as he soon realized, because the sink was about level with his hips.

 

After he cleaned up as best he could and had gotten dressed, he pushed his hair back and put on the mask. It was pretty cold, but nothing could possibly shock him again after that morning’s events. He grabbed his phone and set a timer for 20 minutes, then walked out and into the kitchen.

 

The kitchen had the largest windows, so at this point in the morning he didn’t need to turn on the light. The sun was no longer so harsh and white, and had faded into a soft yellow, coating everything in a light radiance. 

 

Lance rummaged through the cupboard in search of some off-brand cereal, which- hey!- is just as good as name-brand. Stale one to the left, unopened to the right… He finally found a familiar box behind some  _ Cheery U _ s. Something actually not off-brand for once.  _ Altean Stars.  _ Woo.

 

He hummed Despashiro slowly as he pulled the box down and popped open the door of the refrigerator.  It took a second to figure out exactly  _ how _ to hold the cereal, keep the door open, and get the milk from behind a bunch of fruit, but Lance had always been eager to welcome challenges. Because, obviously, breakfast was worthy of the title “challenge”. This resulted in an awkward system that, not to flex or anything, would’ve been impossible for anyone else to pull off.

 

He sat down at his small island and poured the cereal into a blue plastic bowl.

 

The cereal reminded him of

 

He thought about what he’d read about the school’s astronomy club. It sounded really interesting, and open for anyone, even those like Lance, who didn’t take classes with the whole space focus. Despite having lost interest for a few years, Lance still felt a connection with astronomy, which guided him into wanting to check out the club.

 

He quickly finished the cereal and walked back into the bathroom as his timer rang out 3 times. He and Pidge had figured out a way to  _ subtly _ hack the software so that he wouldn’t have to waste time turning off his timer.  He pinched the edge of the face mask and dramatically pulled it off his face, tossing it into the trashcan. Wiping his fingers on the side of his shirt, he blinked at the shiny face that was reflected back at him through the mirror and looked away quickly as he caught sight of his red blotchy nose. 

 

He rolled his eyes upon remembering his fall and massaged the leftover... whatever was in these things… into his skin before applying a generous amount of moisturizer, making sure to stay away from his nose and bruised cheek. Once he was done with this simplified version of his daily facial regimen, he yawned and walked out, pushing down the lightswitch. Lance then looked in his room to find his keys, wallet and some boots while second guessing his outfit choice in his full-length mirror. A few minutes passed and he couldn’t decide if he was missing a jacket or a hat. He shrugged and pulled on a beanie, nodding thoughtfully, and walked all the way out of his apartment.

 

He’d already locked the door when he realized that, hey, he  _ kind of needed his backpack.  _

 

As soon as he ran in and got it, he flew down the stairs and out into the nearly-autumn air. He frantically looked both ways before dashing across the crosswalk to the cafe across the street. Wow, how surprising, crazy, and unique that he lives across the street from a small cafe. Insane. 

 

A small bell jangled as he pushed open the door, walking in to absorb the warm scents of the morning. The smell of coffee wafted through the air, settling like a slight fog around everything, and Lance just soaked it up, stifling another small yawn.

 

“Heya, Lance!” Hunk chirped from behind the counter, poised to take his order. “The usual for you?” Lance nodded, looking distractedly at the pastries they had in the case that day.

 

“It still perplexes me as to how you’re so animated in the mornings,” Lance murmured, gaze settling on the donuts before he stood up. He personally had been totally winded just by getting ready that morning. And doing some  _ intense _ cardio trying to retrieve his backpack.

 

“It still perplexes  _ me _ as to how you’re so groggy. Come on, dude, how are you going to survive the rest of college?” Hunk smiled good naturedly as he purposely butchered Lance’s name on a cup. “Speaking of college, and, the two of us, when will you be done packing?” 

 

Lance’s head snapped up to face Hunk’s, growing red with embarrassment. “Oh, shit, man, I totally forgot we were doing that. I’ll try to be done by the end of the week….” he grimaced. “Sorry.” See, Lance was a dumbass, and had forgotten that he was moving in with Hunk.

 

While Lance  was stuttering and being stupid, Hunk had started laughing. He waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, Lance. It’s okay. We can—” He paused abruptly. “Wait—” he turned back to him and leaned over the counter, peering into Lance’s face. 

 

“Dude, what in the quiznak happened to your face?” He asked, dead serious, all sign of humor gone.

 

Lance grinned sheepishly and looked down at the floor.

 

“Lance, did you fall out of the shower again?”

 

A moment passed.

 

Lance blinked a couple of times.

 

“Maybe.”

 

Hunk shook his head. He knew Lance could do stupid things like this, but it had never shown up so prominently on his face before.

 

“Whatever, lemme finish this coffee.”

  
  
  


Lance tried to be extra super extremely early to his fancy welcome meeting. He really did. But, early for Lance-Time™, was really just on time.

 

Somehow, he managed around 10 minutes early. 

 

He walked into the large room filling with people, the overhead lights quickly hurting his eyes. He frowned, scanning the big blue room for a seat that was in a good position.

 

He settled for one in the second row. Not front row, but not back either. The second row provided a close enough distance to the professor, but he felt more secure with people in front of him.

 

After finding this seat, he walked over and sat in it. 

 

Lance sighed as people milled about the seats, visiting with friends and classmates. He drummed his fingers on the table, occasionally shifting in his seat. He got used to having a bunch of people around him and opted to pull out his phone and earbuds from the pocket of his black skinny jeans. Heck yeaaa.

 

He scrolled through his music and smiled a little baby small smile at his playlist. A flood of memories inundated his brain, memories of family, memories of happiness. It was nostalgic in only the best of ways. 

 

Lance nodded his head gently to the beat for about a minute, standing up once to let a student slide past him. He began to sing under his breath as he pulled out his notebook and bumped up the volume a little bit. When the first song ended, he said into the microphone, “This is so sad. Alexa, play Despacito.”

 

Siri was activated. “The hell’d you call me, you little shit?”

 

Lance turned his phone off.

 

Eventually, about thirty seconds before the class officially began, somebody sank into the seat next to him. For some reason, they'd walked in from the other side. Because, that  _ totally _ makes sense. Lance scoffed internally at this person’s disregard of common sense.  _ Haha, what a loser. _

 

He snuck a glance at this person as they rushed to pull out their book. His hair was styled in a… mullet?  _ Wow. _ What is this, the 80s? Pff. So stupid. Loser.

 

Lance reached out a hand, grinning as he studied the rest of this boy next to him.  _ Damn,  he’s actually hot. _

 

“The name’s Lance,” He offered, hand still extended.

 

The boy looked up, gave a stiff nod, and muttered, “Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you believe that this is on the internet


	2. Act I, Scene II: Fior Di Latte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions? In my fic? More likely than you think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude. I have been working on this chapter for so. long. And yet, IT STILL MANAGES TO BE SHORT???? 
> 
> (AND SEASON 3 WOO)
> 
> Please try to enjoy this maybe possibly? A lot of it is quite awkward and I have to admit Pidge is a tad bit out of character at some points but, hey, I tried. I think if I read through and edit any of this chapter more, I'd be sick.
> 
> Gah. Here, take it. I know nobody's been waiting but, holy shit, I have.

 

Lance stared blankly at the faculty talking about lecture etiquette and the club manager president guy giving a speech on “finding yourself and strengthening bonds” or some shit for the whole welcome meeting, every now and then glancing at the boy next to him.

 

At the end of the meeting, he’d only heard about 3 words of the astronomy club portion, which was _less than ideal._ But, as he finally released his death grip on his pencil (which was not used for anything other than mindless doodling in the margins of the handouts they’d received), he decided to just check it out later anyway.

 

Lance took in the sound of the students chattering away as they filed out of the echoey room and picked up his few things. It was the classic background noise, of course, that just reminds one of school, but this time, it seemed more relaxed. More like… everyone wanted to be there. At least, to some extent.

 

In short, it was different from high school. High school was…. loud. Annoying. Full of misbehavior and graffiti. It was a horrible school but it's all he had, unless, of course, he wanted to commute 3 hours everyday.

 

Obviously he didn't, so he was stuck in Hell for 4 years. Too many people picked on him, yelling distasteful slurs at him in the hallway, spreading appalling rumors that were never true…. Pidge was basically his only saving grace in that school.

 

He shook his head, clearing the hint of black smoke teasing at the edges of his thoughts. Lance sighed and stood up, his mind eagerly fleeting to something else random as he walked down the aisle to leave.

 

If he looked any different, he'd look like a loser fifth grader with the way he had his backpack slung over one shoulder. But, this is Lance, so he's 10000 times cooler. Classic bad-boy archetype, if you will. Appearance-wise, at least.

 

He pushed through the door into the hallway, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around to make sure everyone still existed and his class hadn't been stuck inside of a pocket in space-time.

 

The hall clock said 11:30, so he whipped out his schedule to check what was next. “Aw, sweet!” Lance smiled, stepping towards the wall to let a small group of girls past. He was surprised to be happy about a school schedule, but it makes a lot of sense in this case.

 

It said “ _lunchtime!”_ and so did Lance. He readjusted his bag and walked outside, squinting at the sun. And suddenly he was knocked over.

 

“QUIZNAK—” He yelled, crashing onto the sidewalk with the force of a small but strong child on top of him. He looked up into the face of a demon, or, at least, the face of Pidge. _Eh, close enough._

 

“Howdy. Lunch?” They asked, smiling innocently. Lance groaned and rubbed his head, nodding slightly. “Great! Get up, loser, we’re going eating.”

 

Pidge slid off and stood up agilely- without hands!-, something they should _not_ be able to do, seeing as they spend all their free time locked up in their room, doing _anything_ but exercise.

 

Lance reached a hand out, sighing dramatically until Pidge pulled him up.

 

“Pidge, you know that's incorrect grammar, right?”

 

“Oh fuck off, I'm doing it for Mean Girls.”

 

Once the pair reached the cafeteria, it seemed like there were no empty tables. But then Lance’s “sharpshooter” eyes spotted an empty two-seated table near the back left corner, kind of beside the soda machines.

 

He grabbed Pidge’s forearm and they both veered off to the side and quickly made their way to the table.

 

They were within a seven food radius when a brooding figure slid into one of its seats. Pidge sputtered out a complaint with their hands in the air.

 

“He wasn't– just five seconds… COME ON!!!”

 

They stormed over to the boy, already flipping him off and yelling their head off, rivaling the force of a.. very loud hurricane. Great figurative language.

 

Lance’s eyes widened as he realized it was the boy who had sat next to him in the meeting. _Oh, f–_

 

He broke into a joggy run after Pidge and pulled them away from the terrified… Kendrick? Karl? Ah. Poor Keith.

 

Pidge had always been a force to be reckoned with but they'd never caused tears from someone they didn't know. He knew they weren’t serious, but it had gone too far.

 

Lance was closer to panicking than that deranged squirrel in Ice Age always was to that nut. He noticed the other boy seeming to freeze up, but also thought he looked like he might implode at the same time. _Shit. 0-100 reeeeeeeal quick._

 

(TW)

 

 _What the actual hell is happening???_ All Keith had wanted was to drop his stuff off on the table and then eat, then suddenly some, some _midget_ was screaming at him!!

 

It was too loud, they were causing a scene, he was caught off guard, and people were staring at him. _Holy heck, it’s not that big of a deal. Stop. Panicking. Stop. Panicksandjflsdjfbrghfnf--_ His brain was keyboard smashing like crazy.

He couldn't think straight, his vision was blurring with tears, and he couldn't take it. No, no, he couldn't stand this, but he also couldn't stand up, and all of this made his eyes burn.  _Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't you dare._  

He was seemingly glaring at his fidgeting hands on the table until he just gave up and shut his eyes, leaning his face into his hands. He heard muffled yelling but his head was spinning a bit too much to care about that. It was all too loud and too quiet at the same time.

 

He barely heard somebody sinking into the seat next to him 5  – or was it 10?–minutes later and set something on the tabletop, followed by the faint sound of another person possibly sitting down.

 

“Hey, hey…” Somebody whispered, lightly patting his arm. “Drink some water.”

 

Keith looked up, brought back into the _cold, cold_ feeling of reality. He knew he needed it, though.

 

He recognized the boy next to him as the one he sat down next to in the welcome meeting, the same boy who accompanied the evil yelling kid into the dining hall.

 

The boy…. Lance, maybe, he thought, possibly, smiled gently at him. It pissed him off just the slightest bit.  _I'm not a sad puppy with a cone on my head. Stop looking at me like that._  Having another person watch him made Keith wonder how shitty he must look. Red eyes, tear tracks, some awful pout, the whole shebang. Must be pretty awful.

 

Lance laughed softly. Oh, quiznak. He'd been staring. Keith’s burning glare shot to the wall behind him.

 

“Come on, I didn't poison it, and you know you're dehydrated.”

 

He slid the water bottle over to Keith. Keith nodded sharply, more like an awkward head duck, knowing Lance was right, and opened the bottle. Eye contact is non existent.

 

He took a giant frickin' swig and somehow downed half the bottle in three seconds flat. He set it back down on the table and almost thanked him. He reminded himself that  _no, he's probably just trying to get you to leave._

 

He didn't want to seem ungrateful, but he didn't want to sound really stupid when he anxiously stumbled over words and slurred them worse than a drunk tortoise. No offense to any drunk tortoises out there. He just kinda pushed a little smile onto his face.

 

Lance seemed to have a hint of an understanding glint in his eye before he blinked and turned to whisper something to that asshole midget. Keith rolled his eyes, half expecting the two to walk away and leave him alone like everyone always seemed to do.

 

“Pidge, do you want to say anything?”

 

 

Frankly, Keith couldn't care less. He rushed to his feet with a  _swish_.

 

He left, taking the bottle with him.

  


After Keith hurriedly walked away, stuffing his free hand into his sweatshirt pocket and sadly muttering something about “those damn millennials”, Lance turned to Pidge.

 

“What. The. Quiznak.”

 

Dead silence hung heavily in the air as Pidge fiddled with their glasses, artfully not meeting Lance’s gaze. “I..” They shook their head, unable to explain themself any more than they already had.

 

Lance prodded Pidge in the sternum. “You’re buying me a snack later.”

 

Pidge nodded, accepting their fate, obviously guilty but still a little confused. “Why do you care so much about this guy, though? Besides your obvious little  _crush_ on him, of course.”

 

Lance leaned back in his seat a little then second-guessed that and stood up, setting his phone and earbuds on top of his books. It felt like he was burning up, but, no, of cpurse he wasn't. “I don't,” he mumbled wistfully, looking off at god-knows-what in the distance before snapping his head back to Pidge. "I don't care about him. I mean, why would I? I don't know the kid. I- pfft- I don't even like him. At all. He's probably a jerk. Obviously."

 

He stood up as Pidge did the same, frowning sheepishly at the ground. Lance glanced at his friend and affectionately - albeit annoyingly- patted their head.

 

Pidge looked up at Lance. They both nodded with very serious and knowing expressions and walked over to the cereal. Who needs an actual lunch when you have free rein over all the food groups and meals?

 

There they were greeted by a very familiar face, or, rather, back of a head, as they approached. Hunk was in the middle of an intense battle with the dispenser of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

 

“Bwuh- You just worked for that dude ahead of me! Do I just mean nothing to you?” This was his favorite cereal, he was not about to be bested by a piece of plastic and lose the single most beautiful thing in the world!

 

Lance smirked and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, buddy. Turn the handle the other way.”

 

 

***

 

 

Keith really liked walking around. Sure, driving around got you places faster, but, _dude_ , you can learn so much from walking around. (It’s not like he’d have an easy time using a car on campus, anyway. Parking was hell.) He could see every twisting vine of ivy covering an old bench, set deep into a lush, verdant mass of tangled trees and plants. It was beautiful and peaceful.

 

Keith smiled faintly and pulled out his phone to snap a photo that, no doubt, did it absolutely no justice, but at least it would help him remember this place for the future. He shoved the phone into his sweatshirt and pulled out one of the sides of his earbuds, bringing the other with it.

 

He pulled his phone out again to swipe through his downloaded music, too lazy to open Spotify. He started walking again, the only sound so far being leaves crackling under his sneakers.

 

He finally settled on Phoenix’s Ti Amo, starting with Fior Di Latte. This album was, like, perfect for him. Not in the assumed sense, though. Keith didn’t exactly consider himself the most romantic guy. At all. It’s just in the atmosphere of the songs; they all had little hints of melancholy, small clouds of _missing you_ , tiny notes of bittersweet feelings. Except he wasn't sure what he was missing.

 

All expertly hidden behind a thin smokescreen of happiness and excitement. Keith liked the poetry of the album, _beyond_ the lyrics. So deep. Something about that music just struck a chord with him and it was the perfect soundtrack for that afternoon.

It's so complex.

It's so perfect.

 

With a little Phoenix-induced spring in his step, Keith continued on.

 

***

 

“Then he’s like ‘Do you know space?’ and I’m like ‘Heck yeah, I know space!’ and he’s like ‘GOOD WILLYOUJOINTHEAsTRONOMYCL UB PleeasE?’”

 

Hunk laughed, reaching for a can of soda that had been sitting on the common area’s table. Whatever Pidge says, he can’t help laughing at. Honestly, they could recite their daily order at the cafe and he’d have tears in his eyes by the fifth word. “So what did you say? Are you joining the club? You know Lance will be in hot water without one of us there.”

 

“You wanna know what I said?”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“I said ‘Suck it, I ain’t.’”

 

Hunk burst out cackling like he’d been tickled by a feathered octopus. “You- Fwa- SUCK IT- Hah- PIDGE!!!” He waved his hand like he was trying to fan himself but everytime he’d calm down Pidge’s brilliant fucking deadpan would appear in his brain and send him off again.

 

Pidge’s face fell comfortably into the cat-like grin they wore so well. “When are you and Lance going to do the whole dorm thing?”

 

Upon remembering the events of that morning, Hunk rolled his eyes with a seemingly wan but truly good-natured smile. “I’m going to try to get him to work a little harder and maybe- just _maybe_ \- in a couple of days.”

 

“Heh, good. I’m taking the couch until then. Allura keeps inviting Shiro over…” They shuddered, obviously very repulsed.  “But, anyway. Hopefully Lance can join us later. There’s going to be a two-hour special on History about aliens and how they’ve affected Italy’s bread production!”

 

“You are one weird bird.” Hunk said, standing up slowly and smiling at his... _fun_ - _sized_ friend. (An affectionate description he knew Pidge hated. They said it reminded them of shitty minion memes on facebook.)

 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. A quick flip through his contacts led to a call to Lance.

 

“Hey, Pidge has some weird documentary thing they want you to come over to watch later.” Pause. “Oh, lemme ask.” He put his hand over the microphone. “Pidge, uh, what time?”

 

“Nine o’clock!”

 

“Nine. You in? Great, dude!”

 

He hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have edited this chapter so much and I'm praying that this is going to be the last big edit. I'm working hard to provide y'all with the very best <3 
> 
> Songo Bongo: Fior Di Latte - Phoenix
> 
> Ti Amo is a really important album to me. The songs have bittersweet undertones that match any mood. You have the happiness of the music, sadness and loneliness of the lyrics, and the combination of the two create the ultimate summer soundtrack. I've read that it pays homage to Italian summers, and I wholeheartedly hear that. Phoenix managed to capture the brightly colored buildings and gelato of Cinque Terre, the narrow and winding streets of Genova, the mimes in the heart of Rome, live music at sunset, and the crystal-blue Mediteranean ocean only in the atmosphere of an electropop-ish album. I don't know if I would understand this had I not been to Italy, so I'm really glad the timing matched up to where I could experience both in the same summer. I definitely miss my trip there, so that really does at to the before mentioned bittersweetness. I just freaking love this album and summer in Italy.


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